I am vast, blue timeworn colossus, rolling, the green hills of Qwahu brown scars of the Nuer I can go deeper, hold it and deeper still hold, hold. In these things lie no permission, everything- is for the taking- the giving. Heirloom scattered coral, pirouette in the deep, I find language and stories of them and me memories of this vast colossus of them and me looking into them is looking into me this surface, this surface looking hurts this surface but in them lies permission for me to be me only one way to heal this bone deep- power, centrifugal power this gentle force at the centre of careless tornadoes the softest wave kisses the shore. S.O is a British-African writer based in London.